Offer Me
by Phoenixflames12
Summary: Muschietta runs through the darkness of a world which she had long since forgotten. (This very, very, very short one shot could be read as part of the Fallen Angels Universe, although it is not necessary to have read that one first.) Please feel free to read and review! Much love and enjoy x (Oneshot)


_**A/N: She runs through the darkness of a world which she had long since forgotten.**_

 ** _This very, very short one shot could be read as part of the 'Fallen Angels' universe, but it is not necessary to have read that one first._**

 ** _Disclaimer: As I am not Male, French or living in C19th Paris, how can I possibly own Les Miserables? I am simply trying to convey my love for Victor Hugo's characters into something cohesive- please don't sue me!_**

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Offer Me

She runs through a darkness smothered by ashes of a fire that has been long since extinguished.

She runs through the stinging smoke, smoke that makes her eyes smart as she squints towards the clock tower. The clock tower where he promised he would meet her; the clock tower that even now; all these months later; conjures up memories of the weight of his hands clasping hers, of the silent tears catching her eyelashes, the silent shudders of his body collapsed against her breast.

It is the silence of the city that unnerves her now.

It is not the dust or the smoke or the chill breeze that catches her hair and chases itself under the ragged seams of her dress; nor is it the sense of strangeness that rises from her feet with every step she takes.

This is Paris; she knows that; but it is not the Paris that she remembers. The buildings look older, shabbier, as if they were struggling to break free from a cloak of impenetrable darkness.

The streets are silent, too silent. As she skirts past a boarded up _boulangerie_ with its faded paintings of fresh croissants slathered with cinnamon sugar; she wonders where the people are. Where the sun that should be beginning to cast it's light across the cobblestone streets is; why the world that she once knew and loved with all her heart is so silent.

She would; in time; remember it all.

From somewhere overhead she hears the bells begin to chime the hour; a symphony of sound rising and falling in a crescendo of sound; _one, two, three, four, five, six._

Six in the morning.

On any other day she would be bundling herself into her cloak and bonnet to make her to haggle for flour and butter in order to bake the morning rolls. On any other day she would be tumbling out of sleepy embraces and whispered pleas for her to stay, of rough, tender kisses pulling her back into the tangle of warm, all encompassing bodies; a tangle of linen clad limbs dragging her back into the silence of the bed chamber.

The smoke billows around her skirts; caressing the rough, strange fabric; pulling at her feet as it drags her towards the tower. Drags her towards her past, drags her further and further towards memories and faces that she had thought she had forgotten.

He had said he would be there. He had promised he would be there; promises that were little more than memories caught from the very depths of her imaginings.

She must be dreaming. She must be. Either that or she is lost and this is not Paris, this is not the home she remembered all those years ago and she is lost, a lost child wondering through darkness that would not or could not lighten.

It's then that she sees the figure standing by the clock tower. They are shadowed by the slowly moving sunlight, their shadow snaking its' way up the russet sunset shades of the tower.

Something in her memory stirs, a long forgotten beast that stretches and yawns, blinking in the sunrise.

But it can't be. She knows it can't be. She remembers the letter being pressed into her hand by a wide -eyed, pinch-faced gamin; the envelope smeared with dirt; the letter that in a few short sentences had plunged her into a dark, gaping chasm of grief that had swallowed her whole and now; even now; refused to let her out of its' grip.

As if sensing her disturbance, the figure turns and for a sudden moment, her heart stops. It can't be. It can't and yet it can and suddenly she is running; drinking him up; all of him; the half of the pair whom she had loved and lost and yet…

His eyes are wide with shock; realisation drowning the once unfamiliar face that is now so familiar that she wonders how she could ever have forgotten it. The dark eyes with their flecks of hazel sunsets seem to rake over her; looking her up and down in silent, bewildered shock.

They reach each other without knowing if they have truly moved. It is a breathless, frantic movement with hands suddenly exploring lands that they had thought were lost; eyes blinking as if blinded by sunlight, their minds caressing every feature of the other.

It takes a moment before either can speak to the other.

'I… I thought…. They said…' The words are breathless, heavy with tears as she buries her head into the folds of his jacket; drinking him up, never wanting to let him go.

''chietta… 'chietta, please….' He murmurs, the words hushed against her skin; their hushed sounds strangely obtrusive to her ears.

'chietta.

Muschietta.

She remembers now.

She remembers now and yet how can she remember when he is still unnamed, he is but a nameless shadow plucked from the depths of her past?

She buries further, deeper, panic gripping icy fingers at her throat, frantic that by forgetting him, she has unknowingly given him permission to leave her and it would all be over before it had even begun and he would be lost to her forever.

'Joly', he whispers against the nape of her neck and she is able to breathe again.

'Joly, my love'.

The smile behind the words is warm and genuine; a smile that she can now sink into and bask in its' warmth.

She is safe now.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity she feels safe.

She feels safe and whole and loved as the sun slowly makes its' ascent into the new world that they have found themselves thrown into.

 _ **Fin**_

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 _ **A/N: Please feel free to read and review! Comments, suggestions, questions, constructive criticisms etc are like chocolate to my brain!**_

 _ **Much love and enjoy xxx**_


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